Asimov’s Future History Volume 19

by Isaac Asimov

  “We learn about it in school. Mostly because of the Mule.”

  “Why because of the Mule, Bliss?”

  “He’s one of us, gentle – What syllable of your name may I use, gentleman?”

  Pelorat said, “Either Jan or Pel. Which do you prefer?”

  “He’s one of us, Pel,” said Bliss with a comradely smile. “He was born on Gaia, but no one seems to know where exactly.”

  Trevize said, “I imagine he’s a Gaian hero, Bliss, eh?” He had become determinedly, almost aggressively, friendly and cast a placating glance in Pelorat’s direction. “Call me Trev,” he added.

  “Oh no,” she said at once. “He’s a criminal. He left Gaia without permission, and no one should do that. No one knows how he did it. But he left, and I guess that’s why he came to a bad end. The Foundation beat him in the end.”

  “The Second Foundation?” said Trevize.

  “Is there more than one? I suppose if I thought about it I would know, but I’m not interested in history, really. The way I look at it is, I’m interested in what Gaia thinks best. If history just goes past me, it’s because there are enough historians or that I’m not well adapted to it. I’m probably being trained as a space technician myself. I keep being assigned to stints like this and I seem to like it and it stands to reason I wouldn’t like it if –”

  She was speaking rapidly, almost breathlessly, and Trevize had to make an effort to insert a sentence. “Who’s Gaia?”

  Bliss looked puzzled at that. “Just Gaia. – Please, Pel and Trev, let’s get on with it. We’ve got to get to the surface.”

  “We’re going there, aren’t we?”

  “Yes, but slowly. Gaia feels you can move much more rapidly if you use the potential of your ship. Would you do that?”

  “We could,” said Trevize grimly. “But if I get the control of the ship back, wouldn’t I be more likely to zoom off in the opposite direction?”

  Bliss laughed. “You’re funny. Of course, you can’t go in any direction Gaia doesn’t want you to go. But you can go faster in the direction Gaia does want you to go. See?”

  “We see,” said Trevize, “and I’ll try to control my sense of humor. Where do I land on the surface?”

  “It doesn’t matter. You just head downward and you’ll land at the right place. Gain will see to that.”

  Pelorat said, “And will you stay with us, Bliss, and see that we are treated well?”

  “I suppose I can do that. Let’s see now, the usual fee for my services – I mean that kind of services – can be entered on my balance-card.”

  “And the other kind of services?”

  Bliss giggled. “You’re a nice old man.”

  Pelorat winced.

  3.

  BLISS REACTED TO the swoop down to Gaia with a naïve excitement. She said, “There’s no feeling of acceleration.”

  “It’s a gravitic drive,” said Pelorat. “Everything accelerates together, ourselves included, so we don’t feel anything.”

  “But how does it work, Pel?”

  Pelorat shrugged. “I think Trev knows,” he said, “but I don’t think he’s really in a mood to talk about it.”

  Trevize had dropped down Gaia’s gravity-well almost recklessly. The ship responded to his direction, as Bliss had warned him, in a partial manner. An attempt to cross the lines of gravitic force obliquely was accepted – but only with a certain hesitation. An attempt to rise upward was utterly ignored.

  The ship was still not his.

  Pelorat said mildly, “Aren’t you going downward rather rapidly, Golan?”

  Trevize, with a kind of flatness to his voice, attempting to avoid anger (more for Pelorat’s sake, than anything else) said, “The young lady says that Gaia will take care of us.”

  Bliss said, “Surely, Pel. Gaia wouldn’t let this ship do anything that wasn’t safe. Is there anything to eat on board?”

  “Yes indeed,” said Pelorat. “What would you like?”

  “No meat, Pel,” said Bliss in a businesslike way, “but I’ll take fish or eggs, along with any vegetables you might have.”

  “Some of the food we have is Sayshellian, Bliss,” said Pelorat. “I’m not sure I know what’s in it, but you might like it.”

  “Well, I’ll taste some,” said Bliss dubiously.

  “Are the people on Gaia vegetarian?” asked Pelorat.

  “A lot are.” Bliss nodded her head vigorously. “It depends on what nutrients the body needs in particular cases. Lately I haven’t been hungry for meat, so I suppose I don’t need any. And I haven’t been aching for anything sweet. Cheese tastes good, and shrimp. I think I probably need to lose weight.” She slapped her right buttock with a resounding noise. “I need to lose five or six pounds right here.”

  “I don’t see why,” said Pelorat. “It gives you something comfortable to sit on.”

  Bliss twisted to look down at her rear as best she might. “Oh well, it doesn’t matter. Weight goes up or down as it ought. I shouldn’t concern myself.”

  Trevize was silent because he was struggling with the Far Star. He had hesitated a bit too long for orbit and the lower limits of the planetary exosphere were now screaming past the ship. Little by little, the ship was escaping from his control altogether. It was as though something else had learned to handle the gravitic engines. The Far Star, acting apparently by itself, curved upward into thinner air and slowed rapidly. It then took up a path on its own that brought it into a gentle downward curve.

  Bliss had ignored the edgy sound of air resistance and sniffed delicately at the steam rising from the container. She said, “It must be all right, Pd, because if it weren’t, it wouldn’t smell right and I wouldn’t want to eat it.” She put a slim finger into it and then licked at the finger. “You guessed correctly, Pd. It’s shrimp or something like it. Good!”

  With a gesture of dissatisfaction, Trevize abandoned the computer.

  “Young woman,” he said, as though seeing her for the first time.

  “My name is Bliss,” said Bliss firmly.

  “Bliss, then! You knew our names.”

  “Yes, Trev.”

  “How did you know them?”

  “It was important that I know them, in order for me to do my job. So I knew them.”

  “Do you know who Munn Li Compor is?”

  “I would – if it were important for me to know who he is. Since I do not know who he is, Mr. Compor is not coming here. For that matter,” she paused a moment, “no one is coming here but you two.”

  “We’ll see.”

  He was looking down. It was a cloudy planet. There wasn’t a solid layer of cloud, but it was a broken layer that was remarkably evenly scattered and offered no clear view of any part of the planetary surface.

  He switched to microwave and the radarscope glittered. The surface was almost an image of the sky. It seemed a world of islands – rather like Terminus, but more so. None of the islands was very large and none was very isolated. It was something of an approach to a planetary archipelago. The ship’s orbit was well inclined to the equatorial plane, but he saw no sign of ice caps.

  Neither were there the unmistakable marks of uneven population distribution, as would be expected, for instance, in the illumination of the night side.

  “Will I be coming down near the capital city, Bliss?” asked Trevize.

  Bliss said indifferently, “Gaia will put you down somewhere convenient.”

  “I’d prefer a big city.”

  “Do you mean a large people-grouping?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s up to Gaia.”

  The ship continued its downward path and Trevize tried to find amusement in guessing on which island it would land.

  Whichever it might be, it appeared they would be landing within the hour.

  4.

  THE SHIP LANDED in a quiet, almost feathery manner, without a moment of jarring, without one anomalous gravitational effect. They stepped out, one by one: first Bliss, t
hen Pelorat, and finally Trevize.

  The weather was comparable to early summer at Terminus City. There was a mild breeze and with what seemed to be a late-morning sun shining brightly down from a mottled sky. The ground was green underfoot and in one direction there were the serried rows of trees that bespoke an orchard, while in the other there was the distant line of seashore.

  There was the low hum of what might have been insect life, a flash of bird – or some small flying creature – above and to one side, and the clack-clack of what might have been some farm instrument.

  Pelorat was the first to speak and he mentioned nothing he either saw or heard. Instead, he drew in his breath raspingly and said, “Ah, it smells good, like fresh-made applesauce.”

  Trevize said, “That’s probably an apple orchard we’re looking at and, for all we know, they’re making applesauce.”

  “On your ship, on the other hand,” said Bliss, “it smelled like – Well, it smelled terrible.”

  “You didn’t complain when you were on it,” growled Trevize.

  “I had to be polite. I was a guest on your ship.”

  “What’s wrong with staying polite?”

  “I’m on my own world now. You’re the guest. You be polite.”

  Pelorat said, “She’s probably right about the smell, Golan. Is there any way of airing out the ship?”

  “Yes,” said Trevize with a snap. “It can be done – if this little creature can assure us that the ship will not be disturbed. She has already shown us she can exert unusual power over the ship.”

  Bliss drew herself up to her full height. “I’m not exactly little and if leaving your ship alone is what it takes to get it cleaned up, I assure you leaving it alone will be a pleasure.”

  “And then can we be taken to whoever it is that you speak of as Gaia?” said Trevize.

  Bliss looked amused. “I don’t know if you’re going to believe this, Trev. I’m Gaia.”

  Trevize stared. He had often heard the phrase “collect one’s thoughts” used metaphorically. For the first time in his life, he felt as though he were engaged in the process literally. Finally he said, “You?”

  “Yes. And the ground. And those trees. And that rabbit over there in the grass. And the man you can see through the trees. The whole planet and everything on it is Gaia. We’re all individuals – we’re all separate organisms – but we all share an overall consciousness. The inanimate planet does so least of all, the various forms of life to a varying degree, and human beings most of all – but we all share.”

  Pelorat said, “I think, Trevize, that she means Gaia is some sort of group consciousness.”

  Trevize nodded. “I gathered that. – In that case, Bliss, who runs this world?”

  Bliss said, “It runs itself. Those trees grow in rank and file of their own accord. They multiply only to the extent that is needed to replace those that for any reason die. Human beings harvest the apples that are needed; other animals, including insects, eat their share – and only their share.”

  “The insects know what their share is, do they?” said Trevize.

  “Yes, they do – in a way. It rains when it is necessary and occasionally it rains rather hard when that is necessary – and occasionally there’s a siege of dry weather when that is necessary.”

  “And the rain knows what to do, does it?”

  “Yes, it does,” said Bliss very seriously. “In your own body, don’t all the different cells know what to do? When to grow and when to stop growing? When to form certain substances and when not to – and when they form them, just how much to form, neither more nor less? Each cell is, to a certain extent, an independent chemical factory, but all draw from a common fund of raw materials brought to it by a common transportation system, all deliver wastes into common channels, and all contribute to an overall group consciousness.”

  Pelorat said with a certain enthusiasm, “But that’s remarkable. You are saying that the planet is a superorganism and that you are a cell of that superorganism.”

  “I’m making an analogy, not an identity. We are the analog of cells, but we are not identical with cells – do you understand?”

  “In what way,” said Trevize, “are you not cells?”

  “We are ourselves made up of cells and have a group consciousness, as far as cells are concerned. This group consciousness, this consciousness of an individual organism – a human being, in my case –”

  “With a body men die for.”

  “Exactly. My consciousness is far advanced beyond that of any individual cell – incredibly far advanced. The fact that we, in turn, are part of a still greater group consciousness on a higher level does not reduce us to the level of cells. I remain a human being – but above us is a group consciousness as far beyond my grasp as my consciousness is beyond that of one of the muscle cells of my biceps.”

  Trevize said, “Surely someone ordered our ship to be taken.”

  “No, not someone! Gaia ordered it. All of us ordered it.”

  “The trees and the ground, too, Bliss?”

  “They contributed very little, but they contributed. Look, if a musician writes a symphony, do you ask which particular cell in his body ordered the symphony written and supervised its construction?”

  Pelorat said, “And, I. take it, the group mind, so to speak, of the group consciousness is much stronger than an individual mind, just as a muscle is much stronger than an individual muscle cell. Consequently Gaia can capture our ship at a distance by controlling our computer, even though no individual mind on the planet could have done so.”

  “You understand perfectly, Pel,” said Bliss.

  “And I understand it, too,” said Trevize. “It is not that hard to understand. But what do you want of us? We have not come to attack you. We have come seeking information. Why have you seized us?”

  “To talk to you.”

  “You might have talked to us on the ship.”

  Bliss shook her head gravely, “I am not the one to do it.”

  “Aren’t you part of the group mind?”

  “Yes, but I cannot fly like a bird, buzz like an insect, or grow as tall as a tree. I do what it is best for me to do and it is not best that I give you the information – though the knowledge could easily be assigned to me.”

  “Who decided not to assign it to you?”

  “We all did.”

  “Who will give us the information?”

  “And who is Dom?”

  “Well,” said Bliss. “His full name is Endomandiovizamarondeyaso – and so on. Different people call him different syllables at different times, but I know him as Dom and I think you two will use that syllable as well. He probably has a larger share of Gaia than anyone on the planet and he lives on this island. He asked to see you and it was allowed.”

  “Who allowed it?” asked Trevize – and answered himself at once, “Yes, I know; you all did.”

  Bliss nodded.

  Pelorat said, “When will we be seeing Dom, Bliss?”

  “Right away. If you follow me, I’ll take you to him now, Pel. And you, too, of course, Trev.”

  “And will you leave, then?” asked Pelorat.

  “You don’t want me to, Pel?”

  “Actually, no.”

  “There you are,” said Bliss as they followed her along a smoothly paved road that skirted the orchard. “Men grow addicted to me on short order. Even dignified elderly men are overcome with boyish ardor.”

  Pelorat laughed. “I wouldn’t count on much boyish ardor, Bliss, but if I had it I could do worse than have it on your account, I think.”

  Bliss said, “Oh, don’t discount your boyish ardor. I work wonders.”

  Trevize said impatiently, “Once we get to where we’re going, how long will we have to wait for this Dom?”

  “He will be waiting for you. After all, Dom-through-Gaia has worked for years to bring you here.”

  Trevize stopped in midstep and looked quickly at Pelorat, who quietly mouthed: You wer
e right.

  Bliss, who was looking straight ahead, said calmly, “I know, Trev, that you have suspected that I/we/Gaia was interested in you.”

  “‘I/we/Gaia’?” said Pelorat softly.

  She turned to smile at him. “We have a whole complex of different pronouns to express the shades of individuality that exist on Gaia. I could explain them to you, but till then ‘I/we/Gaia’ gets across what I mean in a groping sort of way. – Please move on, Trev. Dom is waiting and I don’t wish to force your legs to move against your will. It is an uncomfortable feeling if you’re not used to it.”

  Trevize moved on. His glance at Bliss was compounded of the deepest suspicion.

  5.

  DOM WAS AN elderly man. He recited the two hundred and fifty-three syllables of his name in a musical flowing of tone and emphasis.

  “In a way,” he said, “it is a brief biography of myself. It tells the hearer – or reader, or senser – who I am, what part I have played in the whole, what I have accomplished. For fifty years and more, however, I have been satisfied to be referred to as Dom. When there are other Doms at issue, I can be called Domandio – and in my various professional relationships other variants are used. Once a Gaian year – on my birthday – my full name is recited-in-mind, as I have just recited it for you in voice. It is very effective, but it is personally embarrassing.”

  He was tall and thin – almost to the point of emaciation. His deep-set eyes sparkled with anomalous youth, though he moved rather slowly. His jutting nose was thin and long and flared at the nostrils. His hands, prominently veined though they were, showed no signs of arthritic disability. He wore a long robe that was as gray as his hair. It descended to his ankles and his sandals left his toes bare.

  Trevize said, “How old are you, sir?”

  “Please address me as Dom, Trev. To use other modes of address induces formality and inhibits the free exchange of ideas between you and me. In Galactic Standard Years, I am just past ninety-three, but the real celebration will come not very many months from now, when I reach the ninetieth anniversary of my birth in Gaian years.”

  “I would not have guessed you at more than seventy-five, s – Dom,” said Trevize.